Free Ishmael and the Hoops of Steel by Michael Gerard Bauer

Jess and finally jerky, bouncy images of Bill’s joggers heading down a path towards the house. Razz began shouting at the computer.
    â€˜Shire to Bilbo! Shire to Bilbo! This is Star Fleet Command. Do you read me? Turn off the camera! I repeat. TURN-OFF-THE-CAMERA!’
    Strangely enough, Bill didn’t respond to Razz’s pleas and the jerky images continued until the screen plunged into darkness as he entered the house. When the camera finally adjusted to the lower light, there was a bit more of the blurry, category-five cyclone-type stuff and then everything stopped. Slowly the edge of a quilt, some walls, a desk, a chair, a mirror and a few posters crawled into focus.
    â€˜Hey, that’s Sal’s room. He’s just dumped the camera on her bed. Wait! Hoop Boy! Look at the little green light! It’s right in front of you! It means the camera is still on! Open youreyes. It’s right there on top! You couldn’t
possibly
miss it, unless you’re the biggest …’
    Suddenly Bill’s backside appeared in close-up on the screen.
    â€˜Wooooooo! Notify NASA! I think we’ve discovered a new planet!’
    Bill moved further away across the room. He stood in front of Sally’s desk. He was looking at a big poster on her wall of a soccer player striking a ball.
    â€˜Liverpool!’ Razz said in disgust. ‘Where’s the AC Milan one I got her? Didn’t know Bilbo was that into soccer.’
    Bill stayed in front of the poster for a few seconds then turned and left. All that remained was the empty room. It looked like a really boring screen saver. Beside me Razz broke into raucous applause.
    â€˜Bravo! Bravo! Well done, Bilbo! Stupendous! A masterpiece! Never before have I seen such inspired cinematography. A tour of force. The movement! The angles! The colours! The light and shade! The drama! I felt like I was
right
there! And now
this.
The piece of resistance. Never in the history of filmmaking has a
room
been captured with such … honesty … such sensitivity … such passion … such
truth.
I’m lost for words. It’s just so … so … room-like!’
    Razz and I were killing ourselves laughing.
    â€˜How could he not see the
On
light?’ Razz shouted at the heavens. ‘Is he blind?’
    Just then some movement on the screen caught our eyes. Someone else had come into Sal’s room. It was Razz. He was carrying a sports bag. He walked over and stood directly in front of the camera then tossed the bag on the bed. The image on the screen bounced around for a bit before settling. Then Razz checked himself out in the mirror on Sally’s dressing table, and left.
    â€˜Yeah, well, that
On
light is pretty small, you know, and …’
    Back on screen, Jess had now entered the room. She was still in her bikini with a towel wrapped around her waist. Shewas shoving some things into a carry bag. Razz leant forward.
    â€˜That’s right. Jess couldn’t stay for lunch. I passed her in the corridor. Had to run off straightaway. Hardly said goodbye. Going to the pictures or something with her boyfriend
Brad.
Apparently they …’
    Razz stopped talking, because Jess had moved to the centre of the room and was standing there brushing her long blonde hair. The automatic focus blurred slightly then locked in on her. She filled up the screen. The camera didn’t just love her, it totally had the hots for her. She bent forward, brushed all her hair down over her face, then flicked it back as she stood up. Razz groaned. I knew exactly what he meant. Jess certainly made a bikini top earn its keep. It was the first time I’d ever felt jealous of fabric.
    â€˜Ishmael, my friend, that’s what we Film and Television nerds call your classic medium shot. You see how it gets in most of the body from about the …’
    Jess had taken off her towel and flung it on to the bed. Now she was reaching with both hands behind